


Physics

by adhdlayton



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Literally just teen because porker swears like a sailor, M/M, dunno how shippy this’ll actually get but I’m here providing that ham content u need
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adhdlayton/pseuds/adhdlayton
Summary: Genre physics aren’t limited to cartoons!(Inspired by an RP)





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey bud- I gotta question!” Ham looked up from his newspaper. It was a common occurrence nowadays, the “Spiderfam” visiting eachother- with the help of another Spider-Man, Miguel, they figured out how to hang out in other universes without glitching out.

“... What is it?”

“You know how your worlds physics are like mine?”

Even if Noir was in the mask, Ham would still be able to tell he’s giving him a Look. “Porkah, the hell ya on about?”

“Like- you can manipulate it!”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, you know how it always rains whenever you monologue?”

".... It rains when _anyone_ monologues here- just how things are.”

“See- that’s what I mean! And how when you’re in a trenchcoat even if you’re inside if it’s dramatic your coat flaps in the wind!”

“....... Again, that happens to anyone.”

“Wellllllll, you know how it doesn’t happen to people from other universes?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I! Know way too much about the nature of physics-!”

Noir raises and eyebrow and slightly scoffs. “Don’t seem like the type at a glance.”

Porker rolls his eyes with a grin. “Yeah, yeah, don’t interrupt! What IIIII wanna do is help you learn how to use your physics to your advantage!”

Noir blinks. Was that even _possible?_ Ham keeps talking.

“So, first thing we’ll wanna do is test the limits of your worlds physics- how strong the storm gets, how long they last, yadda yadda yadda, yknow? Plus, the nature of startin’ those storms- whether they gotta be scripted or improv or what! Oh! And if different kindsa monologues cause different weather events!”

“.... And _why_ do you think this manipulation is possible?”

“‘Cause my universe only figured out you could manipulate it in the 60s! Look, let’s just test it, okay?”

”... Couldn’t hurt.”


	2. Chapter 2

   At Hams insistence, they went to a forest to test this- far outside of the city.  
    Noir hated it.  
    It was too open, too possible for risks to see them- with practically no shadows to slip behind. Only advantage, to him was there was plenty of spots to websling from. So, you could imagine his surprise with the colorful pig declared it was  
    “Absolutely fuckin’ perfect!”  
    Noir blinked in confusion behind the mask.  
    “Uh, why?”  
    He could practically see Ham’s eyes sparkle with excitement.  
    “Becaaaaaaaauuuuuuse! The air’s still here, and because it’s Fall, it’ll be easier to tell if you’re doing anything with your monologue!”  
    This type of excitement, compared to the pigs usual enthusiasm felt different. More... realistic, less cartoonish.  
    “So! Let’s test scripted, first.”  
    Ham pulls out thick, bound script, and hands it to Noir.  
    “... Did you, plan for this?”  
    “Nope!”  
    “How did you...”  
    “Hey, buster, it’s gonna vanish if you question it too much! Keep it snappy!”  
He notices the half-seriousness (far more than there usually is) in Ham’s voice, and takes the script, flipping through it, quietly noting that only the first page has any text at all. Huh. Really is just a prop.  
    “........... You hafta stand there while I do it?”  
    “Nope! Want me to go behind a tree, or something?”  
    “Yeah.”  
    And in a second, he’s gone, leaving behind a Spiderham-shaped cloud, slowly dissipating.  
    A moment’s hesitation. He was never good at acting. Then, he takes a breath, and reads.  
    Not so much as a breeze.  
    Ham steps out from behind a nearby tree. “Hhhuh, look like your physics are improv-based- or, at least, need genuine emotion behind it!”  
    “Huh. Sorry.”

    “No need to apologize! It’s just how your world works, and we gotta test that stuff!” Ham takes out a small notepad from… somewhere. Noir, at this point, has decided not to question these things out loud. The pig quickly jots down notes, before he snaps it shut.

    “... Oh, God, wait. Does this mean I have to do _improv?_ Acting is bad enough on it’s own, you tellin’ me I gotta make shit up on the fly?”

    “You never get better unless you practice!”

    “That’s easy for you to say, you’re just a funny guy-” The detective blinks as the pig is stifling laughter. “... W.. wait… you-?”  
    “You shoulda seen me when I was younger! Yeah, I had to practice at being funny and pulling gags, what, you think I popped outta the egg sac making jokes like fuckin’ Picasso?” Noir couldn’t help but grin beneath his mask at Ham’s joking indignation.

    “No, I suppose not. If I have to do it about something I care about, can you go a little further..? I, ain’t exactly used to people monologuing in the room.”

    “Ohhh, good idea! I can check exactly how localized the storm is! Thank yoooou for the idea, Noir!”

    This time, there’s…. a path in the leaves after he runs off. If it weren’t for the red of his suit, he wouldn’t even be able to pick out where Ham is. He does squint at the large, pink, triangular _something_ from his pocket.

**_“THIS FAR ENOUGH?”_ **

    A megaphone. He covers the “mouth” of his mask as he wheezily laughs, giving a weak thumbs up.

    Alright. He shakes his arms out before shoving them into his pockets. Something you care about… something you can talk at length about. All that surrounded him for miles were grey trees, grey skies, grey leaves.

    And one red and blue speck. He pulls the long-since-solved rubix cube from his pocket. He tosses it into the air and catches it as he speaks.

    “... All my life has been a drunken muddle of greys, blurring together. The smog of the dark city, obfuscating the black blood splatters and hiding the white sun.”

    Leaves swirl around his feet as he absentmindedly talks.

    “Then… that portal. _Something_ I couldn’t name, bubbling out of the ceiling into a dark abyss, somehow swimming with color itself.”

    He feels the light patter of rain.

    “And after I was sucked in, it was obvious, painfully so, this _color_ was… normal. The names of concepts I’d never even considered casually tossed into conversation, as if it was nothing. A layer to reality that I didn’t have.”

    He stops tossing the rubix cube, holding it as his coat flaps in the wind. He glances at the blue and red dot.

    “Yet, somehow, to others that this color was so…. commonplace, they didn’t think less of me. Instead, they were just… excited to share it.”

    He slips the slick-from-rain cube into his pocket.

    “Is that what color does to a world? Make it kind and gentle and soft? They assure me things are going to get better- that this city won’t always be so dreary and crime-riddled-” Noir sighs, and looks into the stormy, dark clouds, rumbling with thunder.

    “But Spider-Man is still needed.”

    The rain and sleet pouring down, he sighs, troubled with his thoughts. However, after a moment of standing in the cold and wet, he’s surprised when he’s suddenly not being pelted.

    “ _THAT,_ my monochromatic friend, was AMAZING!”

    Noir blinks in surprise. It was just… normal, what could be so special about it?

    “How long do these storms usually last?” And, speak of the devil, the rain clears.

    “About as long as I keep my focus on the subject.”

    Ham does that thing where you suck air in through your teeth. “Oooh, concentration-based is tough. But! Being able to do this on command is _totally_ viable, even if it’s hard!” With that, he tosses the umbrella behind him, causing the sound of a yowl of a cat and a cars tires screeching against the pavement. When Noir turns around, he sighs. No car. No pavement. No cat.

    Ham keeps talking.

    “It’s not just a localized weather event- it looks like it stretches on for miles! It’s perfect for if you need to infiltrate a place and need some cover! Ohh, man, I wonder if you can will lightning strikes during the storm- _that_ would be handy.”

    The detective smiles beneath his mask. It… was nice seeing Ham so _real,_ so genuinely engaged. As he jots down his notes, he suddenly points at Noir, eyes widening.

    “The others totally have malleable physics of their own, right?” You could practically hear the grin in his voice.

    “Well. We do have a hangout scheduled for tomorrow back in Miles’s world. If you’re not busy with May...”

    At those words, the pigs eyes spark with excitement. 

    _Tomorrow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three, he really goes... ham.

**Author's Note:**

> My friend came up with the cute headcanon that Noir slips into a New Yorker accent when startled.


End file.
